Page 64 of Faithful

“How’s your evening so far, handsome?” he asks boldly, leaning against the bar a little too obviously.

“Good,” I respond, just because I don’t feel like being a dick. “Yours?”

There are at least three more bartenders working alongside him and the patrons aren’t shouting for service.

“Just got better.” He smirks, not moving away.

Wow. So, apparently, some people just go for it.“Is that so?”

“I’m off at midnight.”

I’m glad I haven’t started drinking yet. All the alcohol would have come back up.

“If you’re interested,” he adds after noticing my hesitation.

I don’t know why I say what I say next, because I’m essentially terrified of the world knowing the truth about Dylan Watson, but here and now I’m not him. I’m just another guy waiting to see the show. “Sorry, man. I’m spoken for.”

“Too bad…” The bartender’s smile remains intact. He doesn’t seem the least bit offended. “For me. Your boyfriend is one lucky guy.”

Boyfriend.

I mull over the word in the privacy of my thoughts, trying it out as I sip on my Old Fashioned.

Once finished, I close up my tab, leave a generous tip, and head over to the second floor where all my senses are assaulted by the noise stemming from the huge crowd gathered in front of Double Down.

Okay, I didn’t expect that, I think, carefully pushing past various groups of people packing the corridor.

The crew entrance turns out to be around the corner, the door guarded by security. A few sneaky fans in Iodine hoodies have already found their way here and are now loitering nearby, hoping to get a glimpse of greatness.

I pull out my phone and text Kai.

He responds almost instantly.

K: Bodhi will get u in a sec.

I step aside and lean against the wall, trying to keep my cool. In reality my heart is thundering, not from excitement but fear. Because the crowd here has grown bigger. Apparently, some other people got wind of this being a possible sighting of Kai Delisa (that’s what Twitter says when I log on to pass the time). And seeing that most devoted Iodine fans are very familiar with the ninja meme (there were even attempts to cancel me), the probability of me being recognized just shot through the roof.

I pull my cap even lower.

So far, I’ve only received a few curious glances and no one has tried to talk to me, so that’s a plus.

Eventually, the crew access door swings open, and Bodhi the Bulldog’s face emerges.

The crowd, which consists mainly of girls in their late teens and early twenties, squeals and shifts. Someone’s elbow shoves at my stomach and my foot is stomped on.

I make a mental note to tell Kai later how the cult of fanatics he’s amassed have no freaking manners.

One of the security guards shoos people away from the entrance so Bodhi can take a breath.

I push away from the wall and wrestle my way through the throng of raging girls.

He says nothing when his eyes land on me, simply gestures to follow him inside.

I do just that.

At my back, the agitated pleas of the fans to let them meet their idol disappear behind the slam of the door.

“Good job on not wearing the fucking sunglasses,” Bodhi barks, leading me down the busy corridor.

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